Look At Me
by amazingburgers
Summary: The sheets stopped smelling like him. (Aiko M./Masashi T.)


**Look At Me**

a _Say I Love You_ fanfiction

featuring Aiko Mutō and Masashi Tachikawa

by amazingburgers

* * *

"Look at me."

I didn't. I could feel him, feel him in every part of my body that craved his every touch, but it wasn't him. It wasn't his image that infiltrated my every thought and being. He was simply a surrogate, a substitute. He was okay with that.

"Open your eyes."

He continued to love me thoroughly both emotionally and physically. I loved it, it was pleasurable, but I didn't love him. I admired and maybe even appreciated how strong he could be, but yet I found him so pathetic. It was tragic and sad and I couldn't help it.

I refused to open my eyes.

When we finished, I faced my back to him. Everything was quiet. I thought he may have fallen asleep until I felt his arm surround my middle – the part of me that I only showed him. He may have felt special, and I guess he sort of was, but it was only because his opinion didn't matter. I didn't feel insecure under his scrutiny.

"I love you," he murmured sleepily into my hair, "I love you, Aiko."

Sighing, I closed my eyes once again. I imagined someone else holding me so close, so lovingly. Just for a second, it was somebody that I was willing and able to love back.

But it wasn't.

"Yeah," I said, "I know."

* * *

There was a crash, followed by a sob. I looked at him, at the man who was so hopelessly in love. I didn't understand why he loved me so strongly. I couldn't comprehend how he could be so committed to someone as weak and pathetic as me.

He kept throwing things at the wall, the wall furthest from me. Even in his rage, he was sure to never let harm come to my way. He was so angry and so sad and so broken.

"Why don't you love me?" He whispered quietly after he calmed down. He fell to the floor on his knees, looking up at me with broken and tear-filled eyes.

He knew what he had gotten himself into. He knew that I would not be able to love him back. I stared at him passively as his emotions ran rampant in waves of desperation and anger.

"I can't," I said simply.

We stayed still for a while; lost in our own messed up world of unrequited love. Eventually, he stood up and started to clean the mess he made. I helped him.

"If you can't handle it anymore," I started quietly, "why don't you just leave?"

He looked up at me with empty eyes.

"I can't," he said simply.

* * *

But he eventually did leave. I was strangely proud of him for finding the strength to do so, no matter how lonely I got.

I ignored the cold nights and empty mornings. I slept spread around the entire bed as to make up for the missing side – his side. I pretended that I never accidentally made two cups of coffee instead of one.

The sheets stopped smelling like him.

* * *

I passed through the door and was sat down after good morning and a sweat for one, please and thank you.

"What would you like today, ma'am?" I looked up from the menu to the waitress. She was holding up her notepad and pen expectantly.

"Hmm… I'll have a burger and a salad, but no ranch, he doesn't like–"

I stopped mid-sentence. Maybe I missed him a little.

"You know what? Put as much ranch as you can."

* * *

I saw him at the town square months later. I felt my feet moving towards him, as if they were on autopilot. It just seemed right.

I stopped when I saw a red haired girl bounce towards him, wrapping her arms around his torso. He smiled and hugged her back. He looked happy.

I turned around and walked away. He deserved happiness.

* * *

My brain felt funny and my mouth was numb and why was everyone talking so damn loud? Maybe it was a bad idea to go to the bar.

"Hey lady, I think you've had enough." I vaguely recognized the voice of a bartender as he took away my glass. I put my head down on the counter.

"But it's helping," I slurred, "It's helping me forget."

I was forced out of the bar later on. Maybe it was the intoxicated state of my brain and body or perhaps a force of habit, but I walked and walked until I found myself standing in front of doorstep.

And for some reason, I rang the doorbell.

"Aiko?"

It was his voice and it was beautiful. It was everything lovely and melodic and no longer a voice that I found pathetic.

"Masashi, hey…" I hiccupped. He looked at me with such concern and I laughed. I laughed because after how harsh I treated him, he was still concerned.

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, he leaned forward and sniffed near my mouth, scrunching his nose up. I reveled in his proximity, finally realizing how much I really missed him.

"Why are you drunk?"

Instead of answering, I studied him closely. It was hard to, since there were tiny pretty stars and black dots clouding my vision, but I tried my best. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was messed up. He was probably sleeping.

"Did I," I hiccupped here, "wake you up?"

He sighed. "Come in."

* * *

The night was so blurry yet embedded so clearly in my mind. I remembered crying, mostly from me, and him reassuring me. He told me that he couldn't love anyone, not even the red haired girl, that wasn't me. I leaned in and kissed him and it all felt right. He wasted no time, and soon we were fumbling through our clothing and under the sheets.

It was as if nothing happened. He felt the same, sounded the same, and smelled the same. It was like the past few months were just a really bad nightmare and now I was awake.

Except now when he told me to look at him, I opened my eyes.

When he wrapped his arms around me, I tucked my head under his and snuggled closer.

And when he whispered those three words, I whispered them back.

* * *

_thank you for reading_

amazingburgers


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